A HunterXHunter fanfic (Part VI)

Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V

September 3rd, Yorknew City, 4:45PM

Nijiiro got Hisoka's text – the one indicating that Chrollo had left the hideout - shortly after hanging up with Chrollo that morning. Chrollo would be on the hunt for the Nostrade girl for most of the day and perhaps late into the night. Which of course meant that Nijiiro was free to stake out the entrance to said hideout as long as it took for Nobunaga and the others to come back with something good. It had only taken four hours or so, which was a promising sign, for two cars full of Spiders to return victorious with two largely unharmed detainees. They had interesting auras, as well. The only problem, from what Nijiiro could see, was that neither of them appeared to be a day over thirteen. ...Drat.
She waited for them to be brought into the hideout, using her perfect Zetsu timed with the entrance of the other Spiders to vanish into the building and perch up above the scene. It was possible that these kids had absolutely nothing to do with the Kurta, and wouldn't be willing to work with her at all. It was also possible that they were working directly or indirectly for the Kurta, who had also turned out to be far younger than expected, and would need to be saved from imminent death any moment, a feat perhaps only Nijiiro could manage by combining her sensory-manipulating power of Passion and her current position. On entering the hideout, both of the kids clearly recognized Hisoka, which was quite fascinating, to say the least. Hisoka ignored them. 'Attaboy, Hisoka' Nijiiro thought, smiling. Protect the plan. The only two places Nijiiro could recall Hisoka having the opportunity to meet new people in recent months were the Heaven's Arena and the Hunter Exam. Which meant that these two were at least pretty strong. And if one factored in the fact that Hisoka had pointedly ignored them, and they had played along, then it wasn't a casual encounter between fellow fighting enthusiasts that could be freely admitted to in present company; it could only mean that these two had been part of the same Hunter Exam as Hisoka and the Kurta, and might very well be friends or at least colleagues with the scarlet-eyed avenger. What played out below was an odd scene, however, as Nobunaga repeatedly challenged the black-haired kid to arm wrestling instead of handing him over to Feitan or interrogating the kid himself... Clearly, he liked this kid enough to give him multiple opportunities to win at arm wrestling. Which was more important than either of the boys realized, of course. In order to join the Ryodan, one had to secure a “victory” over a standing member. And since an arm-wrestling “victory” over Shizuku only counted when she was using her dominant hand, it seemed Nobunaga had taken it upon himself to give the kid an opportunity at being recommended for Uvo's vacant spot. 'Well, I'll be damned,' thought Nijiiro. No matter how well-conceived plans were in her head, little things like this always came out to surprise her. She looked a little closer at the two boys, and found the surprises didn't end there...

September 3rd, 5:05PM

“...I don't know anything,” replied Gon heatedly, staring back at Nobunaga's fierce gaze with one of his own, “but even if I did, would never tell you! I thought you were a bunch of heartless monsters...But you'll mourn the death of one of your own? If that's the case, why couldn't you spare...even a fraction of that grief...ON ALL OF THE PEOPLE YOU'VE KILLED?!” Gon slammed Nobunaga's hand down onto the makeshift stone table between them, and Nobunaga's eyes widened considerably. Even if it was a casual game of arm wrestling the kid was pretty strong. Feitan, meanwhile, who had been itching to interrogate both kids since they arrived, sensed an opportunity.
“You're getting too cocky,” said Feitan in his dispassionate tone as he seized Gon's arm and twisted it painfully around his back. Up in the rafters, Nijiiro shifted her weight slightly, preparing to leap.
“Gon!” shouted Killua, stepping forward to help his friend. Hisoka stopped him abruptly.
“Move an inch, and I'll cut you,” Hisoka said softly. It was obvious to Hisoka that Nijiiro would be around here somewhere, watching, and was probably the only chance Gon had of escaping from Feitan and the others, so long as Killua didn't force the situation to become even more unstable.
“...Answer the question,” Feitan continued, unfazed, “do you know who the chain user is?”
“I already said I have nothing to tell you!” Gon shouted, still appearing to feel rather brave. A flight above the confrontation, the boys' unlikely guardian bit her lip anxiously. 'This is getting bad' thought Nijiiro, frowning. If there was anything that aroused Feitan's torture fetish, it was a brave face shouting the words 'I don't know' at him. Time to make a decision. She activated Passion and dropped down into the action, inaudible and invisible to all.
“Stop,” said Nobunaga, massaging his bruised wrist.
“Stop what?” answered Feitan, despite knowing damn well what Nobunaga had meant.
“Stop what you're about to do.” Nobunaga insisted. Feitan wasn't letting go of his prey without an argument, as expected.
“You know what I'm about to do?”
“You're going to break his arm, right?” Nobunaga said, taking his best guess and getting it wrong.
“I'd start with one finger, maybe peel off the nail...” Feitan trailed off, his imagination getting the better of him. Nobunaga decided to put his foot down while the kid still had hands to arm-wrestle with.
“It doesn't matter where you'd start, just stop it, now.”
“Why are you giving me orders? I've no reason to listen to you.” Feitan responded coyly, daring Nobunaga to try and stop him with force. After some heated staring, Franklin, ever the voice of reason, finally spoke up.
“Hey. Knock it off, Nobunaga.”
“Have you forgotten the rules?” Machi chimed in.
“Troupe members aren't allowed to start serious fights,” added Shizuku, always happy to say the thing everyone already knew.
“Pfft. I know that, already!” said Nobunaga, already rummaging for a coin, “If there's a dispute, we flip a coin.” He looked at Feitan, who chose tails, and tossed the coin into the air. Nijiiro grabbed the coin out of the air, unbeknownst to all present, and wandered over to the highest-sitting stone block to take her rightful seat among them. 'We meet again, comrades,' she thought, smiling.

September 3rd, 5:06 PM
Killua's mind was a whirlwind of tension and fear. From the moment Phinks had cornered him in the double-tail operation, he had been in a cold sweat trying to think his way out of the situation, which had only become more dire by the minute. And far from attempting to save him and Gon, Hisoka seemed to be putting out a sincere level of bloodlust that prevented him from moving even an inch from where he stood paralyzed, Hisoka's razor-like card at his throat. Nobunaga threw a coin in the air, seeming to leave Gon's safety to a fifty-fifty chance while Killua stood there like an idiot, helpless to do anything about it. It was then that an amused female voice rang out from the back of the cavernous room, like a deus ex machina in a classic opera.
“Oh, dear, now what sort of grab-asstic barnyard buttfuckery is this?” said Nijiiro, grinning. It was if she'd appeared out of thin air. Every Spider present stood at attention and faced her in a fraction of a second, their eyes wide with surprise.
“Saisho!” Shalnark shouted, unable to comprehend the sudden presence of the founder of the Gennei Ryodan on a job for the first time in nearly four years. It was a sentiment shared by most of those present, with the exceptions of Hisoka, who had expected this from the start, and Machi, who gritted her teeth in annoyance. Nijiiro tossed the coin into the air.
“Call it.” she commanded, looking at Nobunaga and Feitan expectantly. Feitan chose tails again, and Nobunaga confusedly muttered heads in response. “Congratulations, Nobunaga,” said Nijiiro, uncovering the coin, “your new friend is released.” Feitan muttered something obscene under his breath and let go of Gon.
Killua took a careful look at the sudden arrival, not entirely sure how anyone could sneak into this room and survive, let alone well enough to surprise the room full of powerful Nen users. She had rather long bright-silver hair, the very ends of which were gathered into perhaps ten braids around her, with another two braids framing her face on either side. Her long silver bangs fell over a black veil made of a very fine mesh that sat like a blindfold across her eyes, fastened with a thick ribbon around her head. She was wearing a long, black, hooded coat, trimmed with some sort of white fur, open over a low-cut black top and black leather skirt that hemmed well above the knee. The ensemble was completed by black thigh-reaching leather boots with sharp-looking metal heels and black leather gloves, all very well-trimmed and laced to perfection as she sat with her legs crossed, appearing very much at home. She was medium height, rather well-proportioned, with a large bust, tight waist and powerful legs, and couldn't have been more than twenty-something, although it was hard for Killua to tell through the veil. Her skin was extremely pale, except where her right thigh seemed to bear a tattoo of something scaly which disappeared under her skirt. A flash of blood-red lipstick surrounded her devious smile. Killua couldn't help but think of a vampire from the horror movies he'd seen as a kid. Her demeanor positively oozed authority over those gathered, and their eyes all followed her carefully as she effortlessly leaped from her seat and landed silently on the stone floor in front of them without actually appearing to move through the necessary airspace. She sauntered gracefully toward Killua and Gon, and to Killua's surprise, Feitan and the others had not only released Gon, but backed away deliberately as if this mystery woman were carrying high explosives or a deadly virus or both. 'Are they...afraid of her? They called her Saisho, which means she's the first or maybe the founder or something important...But the tension in the air is way too high. They all seem uncertain. Is this girl really their boss? And what is with that ability? Is it teleportation or something? Is that even possible?' Killua thought, struggling to make sense of everything as it unfolded. He hadn't expected the boss to be a young woman, not at all...
Nijiiro could read the faces of the two boys like bold-faced type on fresh white paper. Kids their age were so very, very honest. The white-haired one she had down to a t, but the black-haired one was still a wee bit of a mystery. Oh well. The Zoldyck kid was very cute from this angle, and it made Nijiiro smile even more. 'Just like a fairy tale prince,' she thought, glad she moved from the shadows to inspect them. She beckoned for them to sit on the stone slab in front of her, and unsurprisingly, they did. Killua watched the terrifying presence draw closer until she stood barely a meter away.
“Well, well...Now this isn't something you see every day,” Nijiiro said, “A hunting dog-” she pointed one slender finger at Gon, “and a housecat-” she pointed the finger at Killua, “and they're the very best of friends, no less...” She smiled warmly at both. Too warmly, as far as Killua was concerned. Killua looked at her face, wondering to himself what the veil was concealing. She had them characterized pretty well, Killua realized with a start. He looked over at Gon, who by then had forgotten his life was in danger, as usual, and was listening to her with an open expression. If this was the leader they were dealing with, then it would be important to cut through the small talk and find out what the Spiders were planning to do with them, while not making her angry, or worse, giving away Kurapika's secrets. Killua scrambled for something to say.
“I don't see how you'd know enough about us, to say any of that,” Killua said, shrugging and keeping his tone casual enough to not mean anything. Nijiiro leaned in close to Killua's ear, still smiling.
“That's likely because I can see a great deal more than most, Killua-kun.” Killua's eyes widened and he fought the urge to reel backward and make a run for it. 'She knows who I am?! Is this her ability? Wait, why is she saying it so quietly? No, I'm definitely missing something. If Gon doesn't figure out what we're up against at the same time I do, which is unlikely, we can't escape her at the same time, so..What should I do? No, is there even anything I can do...?' Gon interrupted Killua's panic in the way Gon usually did: idle curiosity.
“What do you mean by that?” said Gon, his eyes sparkling. Nijiiro was taken aback for a moment by Gon's guileless expression. He really wanted to know, and didn't seem to have any intentions whatsoever beyond that. What a kid.
“I mean, kid, that I have a habit of observing things, and people, veeery closely. It's something most people can do, to one degree or another, but generally choose not to. You could even say... it's my only true profession,” Nijiiro said.
“But how does it work?” Gon pressed on.
“You ask a great deal of questions,” Nijiiro said, “But can you not think of one more important than that?” She looked at Killua.
“Why were we brought here? What are you going to do with us?” Killua said uncertainly, still wondering how she saw anything at all beyond the dark veil over her eyes.
“See? There's two questions for you,” Nijiiro replied, looking back to Gon, who actually seemed like he'd forgotten his current predicament. “And the answer, to both of course, is that it depends entirely on you. This day, like any other, will become what you make of it.”
Killua raised an eyebrow at the philosophical reply. Gon continued to look curiously at Nijiiro, not sure what she'd just said but willing to wait patiently for a demonstration, if he could get one.
“Paku,” said Nijiiro, “what do you think?”
“...I examined them on the way here. They really don't know anything. They have no memories of the chain user.” said Pakunoda, stepping forward. 'Memories...?' Killua thought. Perhaps the one called Paku had already gotten information out of them.
“Oh? And what do you think....Machi?” Nijiiro turned to look at Machi, who gritted her teeth even harder. “Hmmm...so your instincts disagree with Paku's assessment? That's rather interesting. Your instincts are usually correct.”
'But...she didn't say anything...' thought Killua. The longer he spent sitting in front of this woman, the more nervous she made him. Just how many psychics did the Ryodan have, anyway?
“If they have nothing to do with the chain user, can't we just let them go?” asked Franklin.
“Yeah...there's no point in keeping them here,” Shalnark added. Nijiiro appeared to mull it over. She looked at the other Spiders, carefully calculating each of their most-likely-opinions on the matter.
“No, we can't be sure they're completely unrelated,” countered Phinks, “it's possible they're being used...If the chain user typically conceals his chains, they wouldn't realize he was the chain user. We shouldn't release them until they tell us who they're working for.”
“If they're working for some one, it won't be the chain user, since the chain user operates alone. Any information we need on the chain user...can be found through the Nostrade family, since we know the chain user is a member...we should ignore everyone else...” Shalnark said.
“And there you have it,” said Feitan, nodding in agreement.
“Two good arguments...both rife with half-baked supposition. For the record, I think they're both incorrect. Well, then...nothing to be done for it, I suppose. I'll check them myself.” Nijiiro said, still smirking. Killua braced himself, though for what he wasn't sure. Nijiiro looked at Killua.
“What is your name?”
“Killua,” Killua heard himself say. 'Answering against my will ...Oh,no.'
“What Nen category do you belong to?”
“I'm a transmuter.” 'This is bad.'
“Are you acting on orders from anyone?”
“No.” '...Really bad'
“Who's your friend here?”
“That's Gon.”
“And, do you think, that he would be aware of the chain user's identity?”
“No.” 'What awkward phrasing...wait...I'm missing something again...'
“And what color are Gon's underwear today?” Nijiiro said, grinning rather mischievously. Killua opened his mouth with every intention of saying something like 'now how the fuck should I know, you weirdo,' but instead...
“Green.” 'Wait, what?'
“K-Killua...why do you know...something like that...” Gon said, turning beet-red and looking scandalized. Killua realized that Nobunaga and a few others had started to chuckle. They all knew something he didn't.
“I didn't know anything! I -” Killua returned, blushing somewhat himself. But then it hit him: 'So that's it. Even if I don't know, the answer is still the truth no matter what. Is she...a manipulator? No, that doesn't explain everything either. This is really bad. Just one more question could-'
“And that concludes our questioning,” Nijiiro said, clapping her hands together. 'As long as I throw in a little showmanship, no one here will think to question my phrasing. It's a good thing, too. Because clearly the Zoldyck kid has some idea of who the “chain user” is by now. He's obviously the brains of this outfit. But I can probably use both of them. No, I can't get overeager here and shoot myself in the foot. Time for a little stress test...' Nijiiro mused, her face inscrutable. Gon was staring at the ground, attempting to make sense of what powers Nijiiro had used, without him feeling any Nen from her whatsoever. “As you can see, these two are not, in fact, working for the chain user, nor anyone else.” Nijiiro concluded, facing the other Spiders. “Now, tell me, gentlemen...what do you think we should do with the two of you?” She said, turning back to Killua and Gon.
“Well, that's...you heard the others, we don't have anything to do with this...you should let us go..” Killua offered hesitantly.
“Oh? I think you should stay,” Nijiiro said. She looked at Nobunaga and waited.
“Hey, kid,” said Nobunaga, directing his gaze at Gon, “join the Spiders.” Everyone listening raised an eyebrow. Gon's lip curled involuntarily.
“Thanks, but I rather die than join your gang!” Gon shouted back, in no uncertain terms. Nobunaga laughed.
“You hate us that much, eh?” he said calmly, “Hey, boy...you're an enhancer, aren't you?”
“So what if I am?!” Gon returned, becoming even more frustrated. Nobunaga laughed even harder.
“Yep...I'm not gonna let you leave. I'm keeping you here until the Boss gets back. And I'm recommending you for Uvo's spot.” Nobunaga said, still chuckling. 'Wait...the Boss? This isn't the boss right here?' Killua thought. He eyed Nijiiro suspiciously, who beamed at him in response. These people were strange as hell.
“There's no way in Hell he'll agree to that, Nobunaga. But you're welcome to ask, anyway,” Nijiiro said, “if you can keep them here, that is. In fact...” She took five elegant steps backward, never actually looking backward to see where she was stepping but magically avoiding all obstacles in her way. “Let's play a little game, with the three of us. What do you say, Puppy-dog? Kitty-cat?” Nijiiro said, sounding downright magnanimous. Gon and Killua stood.
“Oh, dear, here we go again...” Shalnark muttered, then sighed.
“Is there something you'd like to add....Shalnark?” Nijiiro said softly. Shalnark emitted a sound that could only be described as either nervous laughter or mild hysteria.
“O-of course not, Saisho...” Shalnark stammered, bowing nervously. Killua had a terrible feeling about this.
“Sure. What are the stakes?” asked Gon.
“Gon!” Killua hissed, “Do actually think you can win any game she offers you?”
“Well, no...” said Gon, “but....I didn't think I could beat the ponytail guy at arm-wrestling either, so...” Killua sighed; hopefully he could draw all the ire on himself, away from Gon, if they had to refuse once she explained the game. Which shouldn't be too hard. He had a knack for pissing people off.
“Ah, the rules are simple. If Puppy-dog here,” Nijiiro pointed at Gon, “can get past me within one minute, you win, and I'll let both of you go. And not only that, I'll let each of you claim a piece of treasure from the Mafia auction. You wanted funds, right?” Feitan hissed at hearing this but said nothing.
“And if I don't?” Gon said, cocking his head slightly.
“There will be a penalty, and then it's Kitty-cat's turn,” Nijiiro said coyly, glancing up at Killua, “and if both of you fail, I guess you're Nobunaga's problem.” Killua's hands twitched involuntarily, his sharpened nails threatening to unsheathe at the drop of a pin.
“What do you mean, get past?” said Gon.
“Exactly what I said, Puppy-dog. You do your best to get by me, using whatever method you deem necessary, and if you make it out of this room, you win. Of course, you can't have help from anyone else. But any and all effort you make on your own is acceptable.”
“Okay...I accept!” Gon said.
“Gon, I don't think-” Killua began, but Gon held up his fist and gave Killua a thumbs-up that was full of confidence.
“Don't worry. I've got this, Killua!” said Gon. Of course, he absolutely did not get this. Killua watched helplessly as Gon struggled to get within a single step of Nijiiro, who continued to catch Gon effortlessly and propel him back to where he started. Gon tried everything from attacking and feinting, to running in the opposite direction of Nijiiro's position, hoping to find egress in the other end of the room behind the rubble. However the former strategy only found him snatched out of the air and hurled back towards the stone table, while the latter found him inexplicably darting back toward his original position without consciously changing the direction of his sprint.
“Aaand that's a minute, Puppy-dog. Thanks for playing,” said Nijiiro after what, to Killua, felt like an hour of Gon being slammed around by forces beyond either of their comprehension. Gon was covered in cuts and bruises. And Killua wasn't any closer to figuring out Nijiiro's power. Of course that mattered a lot less as Nijiiro seized Killua from out of nowhere, slamming him facedown into the bare stone floor and holding him by both wrists, his arms crossed over one another twisted painfully above his head.. Killua felt something rather sharp, like an ice pick, pressing against the back of his neck and realized it was the heel of one of Nijiiro's boots, poised to instantly kill him if he resisted. It had taken less than a tenth of a second, and Killua had been caught completely off guard. He gritted his teeth as the sole of her boot pressed into the back of his head, forcing him to open his mouth and pant into the dirt. His heart was pounding now, but the rest of his body was frozen in place.
“Killua!” screamed Gon.
“Stay where you are, Puppy-dog,” purred Nijiiro in a voice that was both deadly and dipped in milk chocolate.
“What are you doing with Killua?! Let him go now, or-” Gon howled
“Or what? You'll come swinging, forcing me to kill your best friend here? I did say there would be a punishment, Puppy-dog. I never said you'd be the one to take it.” replied Nijiiro calmly. Gon looked shell-shocked, finally getting his first taste of the depraved mind that had forged the world's deadliest criminal enterprise. Killua resisted the urge to shiver. 'She said I'd have a turn after Gon, so she probably doesn't mean to kill or completely disable me...probably...' he thought desperately, 'so I just have to endure this...'
“Gon!” Killua shouted back, “It's fine... I've endured...all kinds of training for things exactly like this. Do your worst, Spider-bitch!” Nijiiro licked her lips. This was going to get interesting, fast.
“...As you wish, little Kitty-cat. But let me give you a precious piece of advice concerning torture. It's true that it is possible to prepare for a lot of pain through training and discipline. But there are sensations in this world that are impossible to prepare for...because even attempting training with them is too dangerous, no matter how skilled you may be. I'll show you what I mean very shortly. I advise you refrain from moving too much, though, or you'll find out what happens when your medulla oblongata is severed from your first cervical nerve set.” Nijiiro concluded, pressing her heel down a millimeter or so for emphasis.
“Tch.” Killua closed his eyes.
“You know, I really think I'm starting to like you, Kitty-cat,” Nijiiro said, smiling. She activated Passion, and Killua screamed. He was on fire, he was on fire, completely engulfed in flames, smoke and the smell of burning flesh choked his senses, destroyed all rational thought in his mind. It hurt, it fucking hurt. And it was terrifying, so terrifying he couldn't take it. The heat and smoke blinded him immediately. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to move, get away, make it stop, do anything to release him from this wild and horrifying agony that covered every inch of his skin. He felt his flesh rendering into hot grease and cooked meat, the smell made him want to vomit. He couldn't breathe. This was pain beyond what he had imagined pain could ever be, and he was dying. And then it was over. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he began to shiver uncontrollably as the boot was lifted from his head and his limp arms dropped back down to his sides with a slap. He felt bile creep in to the back of his throat and swallowed hard before remembering where he was, barely recognizing his own screams still reverberating off of the stones around him. Killua willed strength back into his limbs, and it was slow to return. He sat up, dazed and shivering, somehow surprised to find that he was both alive and physically whole.
“I guess he mouthed off to the wrong Spider. Saisho never ceases to amaze,” said Feitan slowly. Killua looked around and found most of the Spiders were assessing him with a mixture of pity and fear. A few were looking away pointedly. As his senses became clearer, he realized this is what they were all afraid of.
“Killua!” Gon screamed, running over to his friend's side, “are you all right?” Killua saw that his skin was covered in cold sweat. 'I'm not sure' he thought.
Aloud, he said, “Yeah, I'm fine.” Gon turned and glared at Nijiiro, who held up ten fingers.
“Ten seconds.”
“Huh?” said Killua, who couldn't think of much else to say.
“That was ten seconds of Passion, one of my abilities. For the record, I can sustain that particular technique for almost three hours,” said Nijiiro. Killua remembered the smell of burning flesh and a fresh wave of nausea rolled over him. He took a deep breath. 'One of her abilities...so there's more to it than this? No wonder I can't figure a damn thing out. She's a specialist, with multiple powers. There's no telling how much more she might have up her sleeve. Goddammit.'
“Ah, I guess it's your turn now, Kitty-cat. But first, I'll commend you on a pretty impressive display of self-control just now. You barely moved at all, in spite of being caught off-guard. And on fire,” Nijiiro said, still smiling warmly. Killua made no attempt to hide his ire as he looked back up at her veiled face. “Haha, you really look mad now, hahaha...Well, then. How about a bonus round? I'll guess who taught you to resist that level of torture, and for every guess I get incorrect, you get one free strike. I won't counter. How's that sound? Oh, and no lying, or there will be two punishments this time, hahaha...” Nijiiro cocked her head as she said this, watching Killua rise and slide his hands into his pockets. Of course, she knew he was trying to casually conceal the fact that he was unsheathing his sharpened claws underneath the fabric, but then again, that was exactly why she would win. If the game she put before Gon was low-hanging fruit, this one was a veritable ground apple. Killua scowled back at her. 'One strike is all it will take, so as long as I get her before she can react...I can't let her get to Gon with that technique...I'll kill her before that happens.'
“You're gonna regret those rules, lady,” Killua said, his voice low. He was clearly done playing games. 'Perfect' thought Nijiiro. Clearly Killua couldn't see Gon preparing to launch his own offensive, just inches away from where he stood, as he was too focused on killing her in one lightning move to notice. They really were kids, after all. But she was a professional baddie.
“I doubt that very much,” Nijiiro said, half-smiling. “Let's see,” she said, turning away and reaching for her veil's ribbon fastener, “Would it be...your mother, or maybe your father?...no, that's not quite right...” Killua gritted his teeth and Gon clenched his fist practically in unison. They'd both attack as soon as she guessed, of course. “I know...it was...Illumi, right?” she said, smiling and pointing at Killua, who was already airborne, his claws sailing toward her chest, even as Gon flew toward her face with his right fist ready to smash her jaw in. But Nijiiro's mask was off, every shred of light in the room showing her the finest details of her surroundings in an exactitude and speed that defied human understanding. They might as well have been wading to her through a pool of maple syrup.
“Wrong!” screamed Killua, whose wide-eyed look had nevertheless shown the appropriate reaction to his brother's name. His claws were within a few centimeters of their target. 'I can make it' he thought.
“Oh, no, that just won't do...” answered Nijiiro, looking back towards the two with her iridescent eyes burning. Gon got her full-strength roundhouse to the ribs, cracking about four of them and slamming him back into the stone table for the eighth time in half as many minutes. Killua, whose claws missed Nijiiro's sternum by about one millimeter, got an inescapable knee to the chin followed by a potent open-palm strike to the solar plexus that sent him crashing to the floor in front of the table a meter or so from where Gon landed, gasping for air. “There's one,” said Nijiiro confidently. Killua's mind began to scream at the mention of Illumi's name. He had to get away. She was too strong. He had to get away. Nijiiro slowly reached for Killua's paralyzed form, but Gon swayed to his feet, clutching his broken ribs with eyes full of murder.
“Get away from Killua!” he howled. Nijiiro simply looked at him.
“No,” she said.
“WHAT?!”
“I said there would be an extra penalty for lying, did I not?” Nijiiro answered coolly, closing her eyes and opening them slowly. Killua was frozen. On the one hand, he was probably going to experience the hell of her torture technique again, on the other hand, at least it wasn't Gon. Nijiiro turned back to Killua and reached for his face. At least it wasn't Gon. His heart began to pound. At least it wasn't Gon. He felt her hand tilt his chin upward. At least it wasn't Gon. He shut his eyes hard against the inevitable torment. At least it wasn't- this...soft...?
Soft, full lips were gently, oh so gently, pressing against his own, in a chaste but rather deliberate kiss. Killua's eyes flew open to find Nijiiro's face mere centimeters from his, and he was suddenly paralyzed and breathless in a way that nothing to do with his injuries. Nijiiro's eyes opened slowly at point blank range, and the effect was immediate. Killua drew back as if she'd burned him, his face bright red, and put a hand to his mouth in disbelief. Her lipstick tasted like honeyed apricots, and without the veil, her facial expressions were downright human. Killua looked at her, trying to hate the person who'd just more or less lit him on fire, or at least not find her pretty, and failing on both fronts. 'What's with...those eyes...' Some one in the room let a low whistle as Nijiiro straightened up in her kneeling position, her hands in her pockets and her expression gentle.
“Heh...I did say this day would become whatever you made of it. We're not here to hurt you, you know,” she said, a slight tinge of color in her own cheeks that emphasized her warm smile, “and I'll add just one more piece of advice to what I said earlier. It's funny, how most people think of torture in terms of what it does to the recipient, but never examine what it does to the executor...I think Illumi cares for you a lot more than either of you will ever realize. Try to remember that, okay?” Nijiiro tapped Killua's head right in the middle of his hairline and winked, hoping he'd understand the hint of the century. Killua looked away, blushing furiously; his mouth still tasted sweet. He hadn't expected nice. That made two wildly unexpected sensations in under five minutes at the hands of some one whose name he still didn't know. Gon looked back at him, utterly nonplussed. Today was giving them both whiplash.
“NIJIIRO!” Machi shrieked from the back of the room, shattering the calm atmosphere.
“Ah... That's my name,” said Nijiiro, standing up and facing an irate Machi, who hadn't, by all accounts, screamed once in almost two years. Killua looked around to find the other Spiders had retreated even farther from the three of them, obviously not wanting to be caught up in Nijiiro's “game,” and several of them were now standing around exchanging uncomfortable glances. Hisoka giggled to himself. Machi was beyond pissed, and they all knew exactly why. Nijiiro sighed. This could get ugly.
“You...you bitch...you've gone too far this time...I don't give a shit if you are the Boss' favorite...I'm not letting this go!” Machi roared at Nijiiro, who raised one unconcerned eyebrow.
“Whatever do you mean, Machi?” Nijiiro answered, unruffled. She knew damned well what Machi meant, but it was nice to watch her aura froth.
“Machi!” Franklin interjected, “It doesn't matter what your gripe with the Saisho is...you're seriously pressing your luck, so shut it.”
“Fuck that! She shows up out of nowhere, and then pulls a – a stunt like that – I won't let you get away with whatever you want, you conniving cunt!” Machi screamed. Nijiiro's smile continued to widen.
“Ah, but Chrollo certainly will, won't he...? Heh...Pulling out your threads already, Machi? I hope you're prepared to hang yourself with them,” said Nijiiro, her voice lowering a little and her smile becoming cruel. If Machi attacked her directly, it was over for Machi, but what about the plan? Nijiiro decided it prudent to end things on nonlethal terms for now. Of course, nonlethal didn't mean painless, did it?
“Machi, that's enough,” Nobunaga said, annoyed.
“No, let her say what she wants. We're all entitled to our opinions here,” said Nijiiro calmly. There was a cold, dark gleam in her eyes that warned against doing anything of the sort.“And yet, for a lion to consider seriously the opinions of a mere sheep...would be downright unseemly, would it not?...” 'This is getting rather serious...' Killua thought, 'but maybe...it will allow us to escape, if they start fighting, and...'
“And why the fuck are you even here, anyway!?” Machi demanded.
“Ah, well, how should I put this...A lack of basic caution from my advance team has left our precious Uvo missing, presumed dead, with the job not yet even halfway done. How could I stay away?” Nijiiro countered, in a tone of obviously feigned distress that dissolved back into a grin. “What's more, I come to find my trusted comrades-in-arms bickering, dragging their feet, and playing around with a couple of kids while this 'chain-user' walks free...How embarrassing...”
Machi nearly launched herself at Nijiiro right then, consequences be damned, but was stopped just in time by Franklin's powerful grip on both of her arms. Feitan and Nobunaga were facing her, hands on their weapons, while Bolonev had risen to his feet, cornering her within fractions of a second. The tension was palpable. Even Hisoka turned from where he was standing to watch the drama unfold, a crooked smile on his lips.
“Embarrassing? Us? The embarrassing one...who's having her fun with kids...is you, you fucking whore!” Machi spat through gritted teeth.
“Ah, so that's what this is? You're all worked up over one little kiss? Even though he's just a kid, and judging by that rosy blush, it was probably his first kiss ever, hahaha...” It was indeed his first, Killua realized with a start, blushing all over again and hoping she hadn't signed his execution warrant with it. “But don't be jealous...” Nijiiro continued, her face becoming grave, “if you come over here, I've got a nice kiss for you too, Machi.”
“I-I don't want a kiss from your lying mouth, whore!” Machi retorted, spitting in Nijiiro's general direction. 'Such tired insults...' Nijiiro thought, disappointed. She'd always preferred her insults colorful, or at least accurate.
“There are at least three problems with that sentence, my Spider. First, that's Saisho to you. Second, don't call some one like me a whore, it's an insult to the profession. And third, perhaps most importantly, you are well aware that I speak only the truth. Don't fool yourself into believing otherwise, or the consequences...may be dire,” Nijiiro finished mildly, pulling her silver cigarette case from her coat pocket and flipping it open. All this pointless rage was giving her a headache. Machi, who began to chuckle humorlessly in Franklin's grip, was clearly about to crack, and Nijiiro would be the one to crack her. With gusto.
“The truth....hehehe...isn't it true that you sleep your way to the top wherever you go, Nijiiro?” Machi said glaring at her.
“Isn't it true that you can't, since you're always on your period?” Nijiiro returned nonchalantly, lighting a cigarette with her matching silver lighter. 'These two are seriously vicious,' Killua thought. Machi growled in frustration.
“I fucking swear, the first chance I get, I'm gonna k-” Machi began, before Franklin promptly covered her mouth with one mammoth hand, and for her own good.
“You know what I like about you, Machi?” Nijiiro said, exhaling a line of rich blue smoke. She looked Machi in the eye, and began sauntering towards her very slowly. “You're petty. No matter the situation, I can always count on you to be hanging at edges, worrying about the little things, tripping over your own ego, imagining you have a snowball's chance in hell of winning some illusory competition you dare to think exists between you and I. You think I've taken this position because I received an undeserved stroke of luck, that somehow maybe you deserved it more. Some one like you can't even fathom the weight of the crown you envy so much, and yet you have the gall to critique the way I wear it. You fool yourself into thinking that the pedestal I occupy isn't built upon achieving the impossible, success after success, at pursuits you couldn't even attempt... Nothing has the deceptive power of the lies we tell ourselves, Machi. But let me dispel some of those lies for you right now. It's not that you don't want to be me, Machi, it's that you can't. That combination of ignorance and incompetence is precisely why I allow you to stand right there, year after year, making puppy eyes at Chrollo, and hating my guts, all the while never realizing the truth you've refused to see, perhaps from the beginning. You will never, ever be a threat to me. And the next time you decide to open that fucking cock-holster of yours in my general vicinity, I'm going to carve out your fucking liver and watch you choke on it. That's a promise.” Nijiiro exhaled a line of perfumed smoke that engulfed Machi's face. She was less than an arm's length away as she said this, watching Machi's face contort from fury, to outrage, and finally to misery, as the latter absorbed not only the truth in Nijiiro's words but also the precarious situation her own self-righteous outburst had placed her in. Nijiiro could, in fact, destroy her for what she'd said today - and not figuratively - and the Boss would probably not even punish Nijiiro for doing it. Franklin quietly let go of Machi.
“How mean, Saisho...” said Hisoka, gleefully breaking the silence, “Machi was simply trying to point out that your presence is a bit of a complication, since...the Boss doesn't always make the most rational choices where your safety is concerned, you know...” Nijiiro laughed.
“Now I've heard it all. You know it's a sad day for the Spiders when Hisoka's the best behaved of the lot of you,”she sighed.
“You're just saying that because Hisoka's your favorite,” Phinks said dismissively.
“I'm saying that because it happens to be true. And for the record,” Nijiiro said, pointing her gloved finger, “my favorite...is Franklin.” Which was true, of course, since only Nijiiro and Hisoka himself were aware of Hisoka's false-spider status. Nobunaga and Feitan seemed surprised.
“Thank you,” Franklin said matter-of-factly.
“Ouch,” said Hisoka, holding a hand to his chest and pretending to be hurt but giggling anyway. “Now I know how poor Machi must feel...” He laughed, casually dragging Machi's heart through the metaphorical mud. Nijiiro could see Machi's face growing colder, hiding from everyone but Nijiiro's sharp eyes the urge to cry at her public humiliation.
“You're just saying that because Machi's your favorite,” Nijiiro shot back, grinning. Hisoka set them up, but she knocked them down. 'Machi really is going to try and kill me one day' she thought, laughing a little 'And I'm looking forward to it.' Nijiiro looked back at the two boys, who were still miraculously sitting patiently by the stone table, observing. She decided then that she liked them. And that she needed to furtively slip the cell phones she'd removed from their pockets and bugged back into their possession somehow, as she had planned to do before Machi's untimely outburst. Ah, well, there wasn't exactly a need to rush.
“You two should learn to capitalize on confusion better. You just passed up a golden opportunity, gentlemen,” Nijiiro smirked. “At that rate, you really are going to be forced to join us Spiders.”
“Nonsense. Neither of us is even willing to consider joining you. And from what I can tell, there's only one spot open, right? But there's two of us,” Killua said confidently. Nijiiro didn't seem like a very kind person, but if she wanted to kill them, she would have done it already...right?
“And so you're saying the two of you are a package deal, as it were? How endearing. But Nobunaga is only really interested in him,” she gestured to Gon, “and so I guess that makes you the spare in this scenario, doesn't it? If I felt like it, I could force you two to fight to the death, and take whomever survives. But it would also be a pity to discard young talent like yourself...So why don't you become my pet, Kitty-cat?” Nijiiro wondered what it was, exactly, about the Zoldyck boy that drew her in so much. Perhaps she was even more of a cat person than previously thought. Killua froze at her sincere question, not really understanding the proposal and letting his imagination run wild a bit more than he ought.
“W-What..?” he stammered, now having been embarrassed by her for the fourth time since they met a few minutes ago. The rubicund innocence in his cheeks was irresistible, and Nijiiro found herself wanting to pinch them very much, an urge she barely resisted. She smiled. One more time, damn it. She had to toy with him one more time.
“Come on, now, I'm a very responsible owner. I'll let you out every night, treat you often, and I'll even let you up on the bed with me, what do you say?” Nijiiro said, trying not to laugh as the kid turned a bright cherry red and began overheating. Killua opened his mouth to speak, but Nijiiro laid a lambskin-covered hand over it, saying, “Shh, no need to decide now, Kitty. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Gon, for his part was in the process of trying to understand how a person could reasonably be made into a pet cat, his innocence being far less imaginative than Killua's. Nijiiro drew out two Bunny-Bun lollipops from her coat pocket and held one out to each of them, which they eyed suspiciously. “Go ahead. It's not like I've laced them with anything. They're mine, after all.” 'So Kitty-cat prefers strawberry,' she thought, following their eye movements closely. She crossed her hands, and they each took the candy slowly. She then sat on the floor between them, her back against the stone slab table.
“Why do you walk around with candy in your pockets, exactly?” said Killua, still doubting the condition of candy from a stranger. 'It's not like I can casually poison you anyway, Zoldyck,' Nijiiro thought.
“For times and places when I can't do this,” she answered, taking a long drag of her cigarette and exhaling a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.“I can't very well risk the two of you going into shock from the injuries I gave you, so to raise your blood glucose levels, I'll let you have my personal snacks as recompense. That's all.” It must have been sufficient, because the two boys immediately opened the treats and began eating them. Nijiiro pretended to rest with her eyes closed while tying her veil back over her eyes, but in actuality she activated Serenity and healed all of the wounds she'd given them, as well as the ones they'd arrived with.
“Ah! I guess this does help a lot! Thank you, er...?” Gon said, quite fooled by the apparent lollipop magic. By the time Killua noticed his ankles had healed, she had already finished.
“Nijiiro.”
“Thank you, miss Nijiiro!”
“Don't mention it.”
“Say, miss Nijiiro?”
“Yes, Puppy-dog?”
“Are you...waiting for something?”
“I am.”
“What are you waiting for?” Gon said, tilting his head. 'You really do talk like a small child, questions and all,' Nijiiro thought. This was exactly the kind of questioning that destroyed her usual air of mystery if she wasn't careful. But then again, she could be careful and dance circles around his level of intellect at the same time.
“Show and tell.”
“What?”
“Puppy-dog, do you hear anything from the next room?”
“Uhhh, I guess, I hear clicking, or...some kind of machines running?” Gon said hesitantly. What did machines have to do with a show-and-tell?
“Close. It's the sound an ink-jet printer. One that's been running continuously for nearly ten minutes now,” Nijiiro said. “If we simply do the math, an ink-jet printer of average quality can churn out about five pages per minute, and once the printer stops-” she held up a finger at the precise moment said printer fell quiet, “-we have fifty pages of printed media complete. Assuming there isn't a set for me, and the one who created the prints doesn't need a copy, there's ten sets of five pages each for the remaining troupe members currently here. Based on his earlier comments, Shalnark is most likely setting up a debriefing on what he's learned from the Hunter Website, with the objective of hunting down this chain-user we've all heard so much about.” The other Spiders looked at Shalnark, who simply nodded and fetched the documents. Nijiiro's frightening level of observation and intelligence was not lost on Killua, who turned to her as she spoke, wide-eyed. She'd make a formidable adversary with only that, let alone whatever crazy specialist ability she was still hiding up her sleeve.
“Uhhh...miss Nijiiro, what is a debriefing?” Gon asked, understandably unfamiliar with the term.
“It's...like a show-and-tell, Gon,” Killua answered for her.
“Oh! I get it now!”
“Congrats.”
“Um, miss Nijiiro?” Gon said, still mystified. Nijiiro shot him a sideward glance. “What are you going to do with us now?”
“Nothing. As promised, you're Nobunaga's problem now,” Nijiiro answered coolly.
“Tch. You're tired of playing games with us already?” Killua asked, bitterness creeping into his tone. He had a feeling Nobunaga wouldn't be giving them an opportunity to win their freedom, either.
“Not at all,” Nijiiro shot back. She'd love nothing better than to toy with them some more.
“Is it because you're drunk?” Gon asked innocently.
“Yes, yes it is,” Nijiiro said, surprised that he'd noticed. Killua raised his eyebrows, taken somewhat aback that Gon had noticed something he hadn't for once. This was, of course, the side-effect of Serenity. Despite their relatively minor wounds, healing both boys at once had the same punch as downing a fifth of bourbon on an empty stomach.
“But...aren't you underage?” Gon pressed on. Nijiiro turned to face him, not quite believing what she had heard. But seeing the sincerity in Gon's face made her slowly begin to chuckle, the hilarity of it building until she was howling with laughter. Shalnark actually stopped his monologue and gave her a concerned look before continuing on. She nearly choked on her cigarette, for god's sake.
“Oh, you're right, kid, what was I thinking all these years, hahaha, I should probably stop stealing things while I'm at it, too, hahaha...no, no, wait, what age should I start murdering people, do you think? Heaven help me!” Nijiiro cackled, drawing out her hip flask and taking a long swig of brandy for effect. She continued to chuckle at a blushing Gon, who hadn't considered his audience very well, as usual. “Ah, well, you probably can't help it, can you, goody-two-shoes? You've had a rather sheltered upbringing. On an island, right? ...You must be an excellent fisherman, at least...”
“H-how could you know all of that?” Gon said, his wide-eyed curiosity ever quick to return. Hadn't he been ready to kill her earlier? It seemed the kid had all the emotional complexity of a goldfish. Nijiiro took a deep breath. What harm could it do?
“Because I pay attention. I said that before, didn't I? Observing things carefully is what I do,” she said. “Take, for instance, that jacket of yours. Sturdy, simple, cheap, and mass-manufactured, with rolled cuffs that can be let out as its owner grows into it. You reached the end of your cuffs at least a year ago, and yet you haven't replaced it. That tells me you aren't from a moneyed, or even middle-class background, but poor, and likely rural, as such pieces are often found in multi-year, long-order catalogs. The wear pattern on it tells me that it's been washed a million times, and mended a million more, by some one with a very fine hand, probably your mother or grandmother, which tells me you still have a home with living relatives who care for you. The inside of the collar has been faded by a strong sun, but the outside is far less faded, and there are deep, symmetrical impressions on each of the shoulder seams, in spite of the sturdy canvas fabric, indicating that the same person, one without an electric dryer, has used the same clothespins, in the same spots, for years, carefully turning the jacket inside out to protect its color from the harsh sun and salt air. Your boots tell a similar story, with laces at least a year newer than the shoes themselves, well-worn soles, and a very fine crust of dried salt still lingering in the space between the laces and the tongue. And that's just your clothing. Your build is flexible, wiry, and very well-toned, indicating a wealth of raw physical strength gained naturally over a long time, such as one would gain doing nonstop physical labor as part of daily life. Your thick, coarse hair, despite being naturally black, has been faded by the same harsh sun, aging it and removing much of its shine. Your skin is ruddy and tanned - or should I say it was, as it's become much lighter in recent months – and the lapse between the condition of your hair and and the tone of your skin suggests you left home about six to eight months ago. Since you can't be older than thirteen, I can imagine your reason for doing so must be quite important, yes? And then, finally, there are your hands. Short nails, bitten off and still harboring a good deal of dirt, powerful, tightly curled fingers, and a very particular set of darkly-colored, permanent callouses that could only belong to a right-handed person in the habit of holding a fishing pole – or a golf club, but I find that unlikely - nearly every single day. Adding all of this, well, this and a few other things I haven't time to explain, together...I'd say that until very recently, you've spent your life living simply on a small island, cared for by a female guardian with strong protective instincts, hunting and fishing out in nature. And then, at the tender age of twelve, something drew you out of all that and into the big city, seeking out big money and getting yourself into big trouble. There's only one thing that draws your kind out of nature and into the world, and that's blood... you're searching for family, aren't you?” Nijiiro finished quietly, grinding out her cigarette. Killua and Gon were both staring at her, mouths agape, and their combined expressions told her just how close to the truth her words had cut. They quickly exchanged a look.
“Wow, Gon, I didn't realize you, er, held such a distinctive figure...” Killua said slowly, hoping Gon wouldn't start spilling their personal details in his usual ham-fisted manner until she discovered their connection to Kurapika. But Gon was far too mystified with her inferences to say...well, anything at all.
“Oh? Well, in my professional opinion, Kitty-cat, I'd say that you are by far the more 'distinctive' one,” Nijiiro replied. 'I'd better lay off the brandy if I'm going to keep talking like this...my god, I haven't bothered explaining anything so thoroughly in years, have I?' she added in her head, scolding herself for the premature fraternization. But talented kids, openly impressed by her analytical prowess, were like catnip for a literal know-it-all like Nijiiro.
“What do you mean by that?” Killua asked, despite thinking he'd rather be handed a basket brimming with live scorpions than have Nijiiro's attention honed in on him once again. Nijiiro almost giggled. 'Well bless my buttons, the boy's got an ego that can't resist hearing about himself...he's just like me, then...' she thought, looking Killua over and smiling.
“I mean, my feline friend, that if Puppy-dog here is the consummate outdoorsman, then you would be the mirror opposite. Soft, shiny, angel-fine hair, unnaturally pale skin, even your irises, are all completely undamaged by the sun... Your clothes are simple at first glance, but in reality they're very finely made, and the outfit you have on right now probably costs more than most people in this city make in a year. Your shoes alone, made by a famous boutique in Kyousen, bear half of that cost, and most of the spoiled boys that don these shoes never take a single step off of clean pavement, let alone drag them through the mud the way you've done. The careless way you've treated them tells me you're no average rich boy content to live out his life on a trust-fund salary, but rather one with a considerable amount of willpower and ambition. The fact that you're here with this boy, and not your personal butler or bodyguard, tells me your ambition deviates heavily from that of your family's main source of income. And I have a firm idea of what that source of income is, but let's narrow it down a bit first. Firstly, there's the slightest hint of an accent in your speech, barely perceptible to most but obvious to those who have heard that accent before, and know what to listen for... The soft consonants, the deliberate vowels, the way you touch your tongue to the roof of your mouth during pauses...you're undoubtedly from Padokia. But the it's the fact that you've taken steps to intentionally obscure that accent which tells me you're from an upper-class family of specialized trade professionals, who often travel for the sake of their business. Your build, hidden carefully amid your baggy clothing, is nevertheless rather remarkable in itself. Rather than a gradual accrual of strength via physical labor, your physique has been carefully sculpted with scalpel-like precision, optimized for a balance of endurance, power, and gymnastic ability. Of course, no mere aspiring gymnast would harbor the lethal set of claws you keep deliberately sheathed and hidden in your pockets, as such. Your eyes have a way of flitting around the room defensively, settling not only on each exit and entrance but repeatedly checking the shadows and corners in an unconscious yet distinctive paranoia common to those in the world of professional criminals. Adding to the impression of criminality is your rather truthful statement about the torture training you've received, which tells me the crimes you commit must be rather dire, as in matters of life and death, to warrant such harsh preparation. Preparations from birth, it would seem, in the interest of creating a perfect assassin. And to my knowledge, there is only one family in Padokia crazy enough to raise assassins so young they could be guilty of running away from home,” Nijiiro said, watching the other Spiders bicker about Shalnark's plan disinterestedly, “and so from that, I can safely say...well met, Killua Zoldyck.” She could see the matching expressions of wonderment on both boys' faces without turning her head now. She had gotten it all the way down to his full name. Killua found himself debating as to whether he was about to be ransomed, in addition to being held against his will. Nijiiro had said they were Nobunaga's problem, but if she had the whim, she could simply tell Nobunaga exactly how much his head was worth, and chances were good it wouldn't stay attached to his shoulders if she did. Then again, she seemed to have some perverse idea of keeping him as a live captive, so maybe she was considering using his true identity as blackmail to ensure his compliance. Killua wasn't sure of anything now. These people were insanely strong, strong enough to do whatever they wanted with him, and Nijiiro was no exception. She didn't need his compliance with anything; in fact, it seemed she didn't even need the compliance of her fellow Spiders, being an exception to the rule against serious disagreements among members. Nijiiro stood. “I suppose I should get going as well. So long, gentlemen...and good luck.” She smiled, but Killua could see there was something strained in her expression. He didn't have time to wonder what troubled her, as Nobunaga began herding Gon and himself upstairs at once while clutching the sheath of his katana.
It was right about then that most of the Gennei Ryodan stood and bowed in Nijiiro's general direction, shuffling toward the exit as the afternoon sun quickly gave way to a hot orange dusk. Pakunoda hung back for a moment, facing Nijiiro with a worried look on her face.
“Nijii” said Pakunoda. It was the name Paku had addressed Nijiiro by when they first met, and the casual syllables had a not-so-casual implication. Phinks stopped at the doorway and waited.
“It'll be fine, Paku,” Nijiiro answered, knowing exactly what it was that Paku was afraid to say out loud. “And if it isn't, I'll survive.”
“But...” Paku began hesitantly. Pakunoda alone among the Spiders had some idea what Nijiiro might be up to, and Paku alone had some idea of why, something she never told the Boss, or even Nijiiro. Perhaps that was the reason the Boss had created such a strict rule regarding physical contact between Nijiiro and any Spider other than himself. No one could touch her, for any reason, on pain of death. On the surface it seemed like simple, paranoid jealousy, not at all uncommon among men who valued their lovers as deeply as Chrollo valued Nijiiro; but Paku always had a suspicion that the rule was directed at her, as a deliberate effort to prevent her from using her powers to scan Nijii's memory. Paku knew instinctively, though she never wanted to believe it, that something in Nijii's memory...was a threat Chrollo, or even to the Spider itself.
“I know what I'm doing, Paku,” Nijiiro said softly. She stared into Pakunoda's honey-brown eyes. If she could kill Paku, the least indoctrinated, most sympathetic to her among all the Spiders, she could kill anyone in the Ryodan without blinking. Of course, no one had to die if Chrollo would simply let her leave the Ryodan, but Nijiiro would never again be naive enough to hope for such a thing. And even Paku would undoubtedly throw her lot in with Chrollo, and help hold her captive, if Nijiiro forced the issue. Pakunoda turned to leave, and Nijiiro had to stop herself from calling out to her. 'Break the rules, Paku.' she thought desperately, 'Break the rules right now, scan my memory, tell the others what will happen to them if they don't stop me...Your suspicions are correct, all of them...Defy Chrollo's stupid rules and live, Paku...' But just as the glowering orange sun could not be held above the horizon in the west, Pakunoda's silhouette slipped through the open doorway into the dusk, leaving darkness to fall across Nijiiro as she stood alone in the ruins.